That Storm on the Horizon
by reminiscent-afterthought
Summary: [poetry novel] The war was coming, and they could only fight the storm.
1. The storm is near, on the night horizon

**A/N:** Written for the Dicing Up Songs Challenge on the Poetry Craze, using the song Black Intruder (Digimon Tamers – Beelzemon's Theme Song).

* * *

**That Storm on the Horizon  
1. The storm is near, on the night horizon  
(…Harry…)**

It comes: the storm of reckoning on the outer shores  
and the angry clouds can't be watched anymore. He's turned away  
'cause they're burning too big holes in his mind – there's no need  
to look there a ways, 'cause he'll never forget that brand in his head.

No amount of glaring's gonna make that angry ball of flame turn away  
towards the angry sky and churning sea – a cauldron hiding black,  
a black wall waiting to swallow the storm up whole

But now, the storm's a coming now, and Thor's big grand hammer  
can't stop it; he can only wait it out, the silent echoes that come  
before tearing screams with the dawn –

He wondered which would come first; the son on that black horizon  
or the storm?


	2. The shining lightning illuminates my bod

**That Storm on the Horizon  
2. The shining lightning illuminates my body  
(…Voldermort…)**

The curtains have pulled back and he shows his shadow-cloak off;  
there's no need to wear it now after all since the boat has already docket  
and the flood's rearing to go.

He's ready to let it loose as well, ready to let it tear and claw at the world  
until it crumbled, until it became a fine coat of sand on the ocean floor  
amidst other equally nameless grains of sand  
that vanish from sight, from mind, as the water rages on and drowns the world  
gasping for its last breath of air  
as the storm.


	3. My winged shape falls on the ground

**That Storm on the Horizon  
3. My winged shape falls on the ground  
(…Harry…)**

They are the storm  
that struggles to rise up from the heavy ocean that has swept them  
off their still too tender feet and drowned them  
without a godforsaken thought.

They are the storm  
that tries to push back the shadow cloak from whence it came

But its clasps are now loose and catch their flailing wings  
easily in the air, dropping them  
so the sky thinks and stays black save that light: the black sun  
from an even more dark horizon –

They seek to blow it away: remove it, so that their tender sun  
can rise, and for now they hide it away in the storm  
so it stays grey and away from the bloody sea  
who would seize and drown it in an instant could he reach.

But the black sun is a spitting mass of electricity that pushes the storm down  
and slowly crushes it, thinks it out

And yet they struggle on.


	4. Reflecting bewitchingly, blacker than da

**That Storm on the Horizon  
4. Reflecting bewitchingly, blacker than darkness  
(…Voldermort…)**

The old sun was a spell that had long ago drawn him in  
and embraced him with that warm flame, that lying hope.  
He'd been a fool to hope:  
he still bore the wretched scars  
of that hope.

His new sun was of a different matter: no ball of flame  
but rather lightning that spat sparks and forked its snake like tongue

More beautiful, he thought, and more true  
to that dark world it festered

And he'd grown to love that world, to drive it further  
into the shadows, so that his spitting lightning sun  
would be the only path, the only source of light  
until he switched it off and recreated the world  
into perfection from its dark.

He would bring all the butterflies of the world  
into his hold.


	5. Who is calling me?

**That Storm on the Horizon  
5. Who is calling me?  
(…Harry…)**

Sometimes he wished he could hide his face within the sand  
and let it cover him" a worm fire shawl that would bury him  
beneath the rapidly flooding world  
and safe

But he couldn't be safe: the lightning sun continued to crash  
and burn away that storm  
that still encased the world.

He had to keep fuelling that storm: it screamed at him,  
pleased for his help

And even if it hadn't he didn't think he could just turn away  
from the other caller: the man who blew the trumpet of his death  
as he'd blown…so long ago.


	6. Someone who desires fighting?

**That Storm on the Horizon  
6. Someone who desires fighting?  
(…Voldermort…)**

Fighting…was such a time-consuming thing that dragged out  
the inevitable; it was coming – the floods and the crumbling land  
could not starve themselves from it, or shy away forever;

The ocean of destruction had existed long before the feeble land  
and the empty sun cackled of electricity in the world before  
he was born –

Time was the fool who thought the world's path could change  
by fighting the inevitable: the lightning that knew only one thing.  
Destruction.


	7. Am I ready?

**That Storm on the Horizon  
7. Am I ready?  
(…Harry…)**

The storm is here: a chaotic gale of wind and blood and rain  
and it holds the lightning at bay.

It also incites it: makes it cackle madly, with pain and loss  
and insanity

But it's a war, and they're all losing track of their sanity  
and the lives around them, in the storm.  
They can't see the corpses: they've been whipped up by the wind  
but they're there, and they can't pretend they're not.

Some of them weren't even ready to die  
but they hadn't had a choice: the lightning that struck  
through the dust and past the storm.

He was the eye of the storm: the one it revolved around  
as the lighting failed to perforate so deep  
but he couldn't hide in the storm forever –

He had something to do  
but he couldn't take too long.

But he wasn't ready yet  
and even though people were dying and bathing the sea in blood  
there was no choice but to wait.


End file.
